Ghosts
by Cakenbakin
Summary: A reflection of Merlin's life and what he has lost post Diamond of the Day pt 2. (BBC tribute) Oneshot!


**AN: So I thought this needed to be done. If you did too, drop a line. Oneshot**

Merlin stared at the ceiling of his dingy Somerset apartment, his eyes unfocussed and his mind full of the ghosts that would not allow him peace, not even in his age. He could not leave this place, he knew, for it was where his friends lay sleeping. Not his travels, nor the promise of anything could tempt him for long. His heart burned for those he had lost, and his breath came laboured as he fought tears. He had survived many centuries, even past the Black Death and the countless wars, the reigns of Kings and Queens after his beloved companions, and yet none had been so blessed, or unfortunate as he.

First it had been Arthur, at the Isle of the Blessed, then Gaius some years later. One by one the knights died, and then Gwen. Merlin had been with her, when, old, tired and in the December of her life she had closed her eyes at last, the final monarch of Camelot. She had born a son, Arthur's son, soon after his death, but the child was stillborn, and so, like his father, she was forced to give the child, named for Arthur, to the earth.

Merlin remembered that day with acute agony, as the child, blond and handsome like his father, was handed to the earth, a token and a sacrifice. Gwen had stopped eating, her health had failed, but had lived, stubborn even in defeat. Merlin himself had gone into deep mourning, and had left Camelot for a pilgrimage to the East. When he arrived home Gaius was too gone.

Gwen had told him through tears, and he had collapsed. He knew it would happen—he knew he would not die like the rest, but the knowledge did nothing to soothe his soul, or his mind when the coming of the dead was inevitable as the tides or the shifting wind. All things grow old and wither, as the corn in the field or the mice in the wheat, but that he was helpless he could not, or would not accept their deaths. So, like shadowed spectors they haunted him, gone, but everywhere within him, around him, and carved into the very fabric of his being. He could hear them, these beings, about him, speaking in whispers, dancing before his eyes. He could see Arthur's face, lifeless and pale, then Gwen's, at last peaceful, with her husband and son. The sight was both wretched and beautiful, and he did not know what to do or think.

Many a day he had walked up the hill to where his King was laid, beside his wife and son, and wept, strong and bitter, for what he had lost, and what he would lose. He could have no friend, no mortal man to live, then die, that could meet his heart. Everyone he had ever loved was gone, and only Aithusa remained, hidden high in the rocky mountain ranges of somewhere Merlin did not know. His years of life had come and gone, yet he had never again seen the white dragon; the one that had made Morgana queen. Now, as he looked clearly into the past, all her struggle, her fight, and her vicious greed counted for naught, as Camelot was gone, reduced to rubble and hidden under centuries of moss, dirt and mud.

He had watched its decline with a heavy heart, seeing the moss creep higher and higher, eating the wood and cracking the stones. He had never imagined life the way it would be, or that magic would become obsolete when men went to the moon, or that Shakespeare truly was a genius of his time (for Merlin had seen many cleverer men.) No, he could not have seen it, and now, in the dark of his years, he was ready to sleep.

So, walking on old and tender feet, he made the journey up the hill, quiet and unfarmed, and sat beneath an old tree, grown about the time of the Great War. He was close now, so close to the bones of his friends, and to their souls that he could feel within his heart. He closed his eyes, willing them to be free, so he may join them, resting forever after in the summer of their peace.

His heart slowed, and he smiled, for before him was the King, familiar old grin on his face.

"You are home," Arthur whispered through the haze. The world brightened then darkened, and all was done.

**AN: R & R! I really want to know what you guys think!**


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